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RPlog:The Start of it All
Running through his typical daily routine the Sith, soon to be Senator jogs around the Gunships small but well outfitted hangar. Techs go about servicing the ship's X-wings and ignoring their high profile guest for the time being. They are currently wearing the uniforms and regalia of the New Republic. Learning the terminology and giving their equipment and uniforms that worked in look that will be critical to the success of the mission. The Warlord takes note of that but pays it no attention as he focuses entirely on his run for the moment, one foot in front of the other. He has already been running a while as the darkening of the normally light grey T-shirt can prove. Entering through the cargo hatch, the site of New Republic uniforms came as a slight shock to the Life long Imperial pilot. She had flashes her badge to get in, and was quickly ushered into the hanger where the two X-wings sat. She had never been this close to a whole one before, at least outside the cockpit of a TIE and it came with much interest to the woman. Jal'Dana moves over towards the nearest X-wing, tracing her hand over the hull and back towards the S-foils. She had yet to see the Warlord, but this mission was getting stranger by the second. Exactly what /had/ she agreed to. She had arrived. Korolov could sense her presence, as he continued to jog around the track. Reaching out with the force he whispers, "Lovely aren't they? They are the enemy to be sure, but they are lovely none the less. “He comes around the back of the hangar, making his way towards the woman and the fighters, slowing his pace to almost a walk as he observes her. He pays attention to her interaction with the craft, hands slipping to the small of his back. Shuddering slightly at the unexpected voice in her head, she spins around quickly, faster than she wanted to really but Korolov was inside her head in more ways than one. Jal'Dana's eyes trace through the hanger looking for the man himself, he had to be there somewhere. He was right though, the craft were lovely. though she preferred the sharp lines and dagger shape of the TIE. The Rebel craft had a blunt beauty to it, like a club it was just as deadly, just less graceful. "I prefer them when they are on fire in my sights" It was a bit pilot bravado, and she still hadn't found the man so it was said in the open. Finally he steps around the fighter behind her before replying, "The best way to destroy your enemy comes from knowing them as well as you know yourself. Learn how they think, learn how they live, learn how they love and then you will learn how they die." His shoulders shrug slightly, "That is the way of all things really. I see these fighters as very utilitarian vehicles. Long range, a good mix of blaster and heavy weaponry. Speed, agility very tough." His lips curl into a slight grin, "What brings you by here today, Jal'Dana Rall, I figured you would be enjoying the last bit of free time you will have with your comrades in arms before we depart." The woman's eyebrow arches up, as she looks from the fighter to the man addressing her. After 12 years in service, countless kills and battles, he was going to lecture her on knowing one's enemy? These were words she'd love to say, but she chose to reply, "Your orders bring me here my lord." If he wanted to play games, she was going to cut him off "And what would you have me tell them? I'm sorry I can't tell you anything? This very well might be my last time here?" Pursing her lips for a moment, she studies the man. Korolov might be a Warlord, could very well be some sort of Jedi, those things were beyond her. The force and that silly religion...again, things she kept to herself. "It's best I move forward with this mission, as all I know is I'm going to Coruscant. I think I need a bit more. My lord" When Korolov wasn't fracking with her head, she felt a lot stronger. He can sense that she is holding back, “Of course they do." He comments glibly, arms shifting to fold across his chest, “Have you been briefed on your cover identity, yet?" He tilts his head slightly, almost waiting on her response, "Though I am curious to know what you are with holding from me? What little secrets lay behind those brilliant blue eyes of yours?" Were it another man and another time, it might sound sweet however there is little tone in his voice and his interest in the matter seems much more malignant. "My last assistant betrayed me, I will not allow that to happen a second time." The smaller woman actually, laughed at the man. Though little seemed funny it struck some cord in the woman, "We all have little secrets don't we My Lord. You have many more than I could dream of." There was a limit to how far she would push him however, and she answered the second question first any trace of humor gone from her voice, "I have given up everything in my life, for the Empire, and the New Order. If you want my life as well, so be it. But I would never betray the Empire, and you are the Empire's vision." Taking a step away from the rebel craft, she looks over the tattoos marking the warlord, "As for the briefing, all I was informed was I would have to change my appearance...and name...nothing else. This mission I'm flying blind." "I don't care about your loyalty to the Empire, I require your loyalty to me. " his voice seems like it drops an octave as he takes a step closer to the smaller woman, "There could be a time when I ask you to die for me, not some idealistic New Order or the Galactic Empire. I want to know that you would bleed for me." His hands fall to his sides, muscles tightening as if he were resisting some temptation, "I like your spirit, but I must make sure that it is harnessed for my good." The woman looks up at the dark figure, taking a step back at first, but just one as she stops to stand her ground. "I have bled a thousand times over from my Commanders, and I have tasted the bitter flavor of betrayal from Commanders and subordinate a like." Her blue eyes harden as she stands her ground, just the slight twitching of her lower lip showing the anger and fear mixing in with her emotions. "If you ask me to give my life for the mission, so be it. But know this My lord, I am no fool, and I am no wet behind the ears whelp fresh face from some Imperial Academy with my head filled with ideas about glory and honor. We live in an imperfect world....Morality is contraband in war...of this I know" The Warlord arches an eyebrow, "That still doesn't answer my question. Do I have your loyalty?" As she stands her ground, he steps closer invading her personal space with the bluntness of a rancor, “I can help your career in so many ways, but the cost I ask is high, some would balk at that, unwilling to do what I ask, or when pushed beyond certain limits, flee. I cannot have that. I will not tolerate it." He is quite stubborn when he wants to be only allowing for the possibility of the answer he wants to hear regardless of what is said. It seems to Jal'Dana that the man is asking her to surrender her will, something she refuses to do. As much as she dislikes him entering her personal space, it is by pure force of will she stands her ground, though tiny drops of sweat start to bead up on her upper lip. So wants to back away in the worst way. "You have my loyalty" she manages to say, her breath just above a whisper. He has her loyalty, but she keeps her spirit intact, she has pledged herself to the leader of the New Order. "As for my career, I ask no favors...I earn my position My Lord. I am willing to be judged by my service." The Sith's lips curl into a grin, reaching out he brushes his fingers through her honey colored hair, uninvited and probably un-wanted, "See, that wasn't so difficult was it?" Slipping his hands back to the small of his back his expression shifts once more as she finishes her comments," Your service is now to me, and you will be judged on how well you perform in my service, is that clear?" His brow arches once more as he now gives her a chance to react properly, the fear and tension in the air as savory to his force tuned senses as the sweetest perfume. The woman's body tenses slightly at the touch. The darkness inside the man was powerful to say the least. This was no drunken action, no friendly embrace; the move was calculated and moving all at once. He knew it was hard, and she new now her life was his to do with as she saw fit, that it could be over on a whim. "Crystal, my lord" she replies. It was a honest answer, and one she knew he expected. Breathing in deeply, it seemed like the air had left her lungs hours before. Regaining her breath, she asks the one question that has still not been answered, "What is the mission and what is you....will my lord" "First things first, go ahead and have your gear transferred to here. Quarters have been set aside for you." The concoction of emotions swirling around is almost as intoxicating as that night aboard the Dauntless to him. The sweet taste of victory mixed in with the rest. Her will was not broken, nor would he wish it to be, but she was his now. That much he could sense, "You will be required to learn many new things, Jal'Dana Rall, things that you never would have imagined you would know when you first stepped into an Imperial academy, things that will allow you to become the predator, to execute my will when need be." "Yes, My Lord. That sir, was all set my, my gear arrived the moment I did. One of the...” she pauses trying to find a name for the rebel looking NCO. "Ship staff already took the liberty to stow the gear." The woman replies. She wanted to get that out of the way. This mission, what ever it was, would change her. She was not sure if she would know the person who returned, if she returned. But she had pretended to be something she wasn't for so long, really who was she? Until now she was her job, her service. If Korolov felt he was going to mold her into something even more dangerous, she wasn't sure how much of Jal'Dana would remain.